


Aftermath

by AgtSpooky



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:32:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgtSpooky/pseuds/AgtSpooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip struggles to cope with the events in “Similtude” and Archer fears his decision has pushed Trip away from him forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This was, hands down, the most emotional episode of Enterprise ever, at least for me. The moral and ethical questions it brought up were huge. 
> 
> But the show itself never dealt with what happened afterwards, how Trip reacted when he found out about everything. I mean, how would you react if you found out someone grew a clone of you? So I decided to fill in the blanks myself.

Captain Jonathan Archer sat in the hard, uncomfortable chair in the sterile environment of sickbay. One hand held a data padd while the other rested lightly on the forearm of his Chief Engineer, Commander Trip Tucker, who lay in the bed beside him. Where he had been for more than a week, unconscious. 

Archer sighed wearily and let the data pad drop to his lap. He’d read the same sentence half a dozen times and still didn’t understand it, his focus elsewhere. On the man next to him. Who needed to wake up so that Archer could look into those blue eyes and know that everything was going to be all right. 

Archer absently stroked his thumb across Trip’s wrist, speaking softly. “C’mon, Commander. You’re needed in Engineering. This ship can’t fly without you.” 

Trip had been so still for so long that when his arm gave a twitch at Archer’s words, Archer was so startled that he flinched and the data pad fell off his lap and clattered to the floor. 

Archer was on his feet in an instant, leaning over his engineer. “Trip? Trip can you hear me?” 

The younger man began to move his head from side to side, his eyelids starting to flutter.

Archer’s breath hitched. “That’s it, open your eyes for me, c’mon…” 

And then he was looking down into those blue eyes, which were still unfocused, but they were _open_ , and that was the most important thing. It was the best sight Archer had seen in a week. 

Archer swallowed hard. “Welcome back, Commander.” 

A blink and Trip’s eyes locked on to Archer’s face, his brow furrowing. “Cap’n?” he whispered, voice rough with disuse.

Archer laid a hand on the side of Trip’s face, felt a sudden prickling of tears behind his eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he said, voice tight with emotion he’d been keeping bottled up inside him.

Then he smiled, leaned forward and kissed Trip gently. The younger man’s lips were dry, but warm, and after a moment he felt them move against his own, a small sigh escaping between them.

But a few seconds later Trip suddenly pulled back, eyes darting from side to side. 

“It’s okay,” Archer reassured him, thumb stroking Trip’s cheekbone. “We’re alone. Phlox is down in the mess hall.” 

Trip nodded, then grimaced at the movement, his hand coming up to touch the wide, white bandage encircling his entire head, obscuring most of his short blonde hair. “Jo—“ he started, then tried to swallow. 

“Wait, don’t talk. Let me get you some water,” Archer told him, then moved away for a moment, coming back with a cup with a straw in it. He slipped an arm under Trip’s shoulders and helped the younger man to sit up slightly. Trip tried to hold the cup but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. “I’ve got it,” Archer said, bringing the cup up. “Drink slow. Just a little bit.” 

A few mouthfuls later Trip nodded and moved his head back and Archer placed the cup on the bedside table. But he kept his arm around Trip’s shoulders, enjoying the closeness. Trip turned his head to the right, resting it against Archer’s shoulder and gave the older man a tired smile. 

But the moment was broken when the doors to sickbay suddenly opened and in strode Dr. Phlox. Archer cleared his throat and quickly eased Trip back down onto the bed.

“Commander!” Phlox clapped his hands together in delight. “I see you’ve finally decided to join us again. How are you feeling?” 

Trip blew out a breath. “My head hurts. And I feel so weak. I couldn’t even hold the cup of water the Cap’n gave me. And I’m hungry. Like, really hungry.”

Phlox nodded. “That’s to be expected. You’ve been in a coma for nine days.”

Trip was dumbfounded. “ _Nine days?_ What the hell happened to me?”

Instead of answering, Phlox countered with his own question. “What’s the last thing you remember?" 

Trip took a moment. “I—I was in engineering. There was an explosion. I could feel the heat on my back and then…nothing.” 

Phlox nodded. “You were gravely injured in the fall from the top of the warp reactor and suffered extensive neurological damage. I performed neuro-cortex surgery on you yesterday.” 

Trip was confused. “Just yesterday? Why not right after I was brought in? Why did you have to wait eight days to do the surgery?” 

Phlox turned to Archer and a look passed between them that Trip couldn’t decipher.

“When can Mr. Tucker be released, Doctor?” Archer asked, changing the subject. “I’m sure he’s eager to get out of here and back to his own quarters.”

“Now that he’s awake I need to do some additional scans, run a few more tests. But provided everything comes back normal I’d say he could be discharged in two hours.”

Archer gave a quick nod then reached out and squeezed Trip’s shoulder before turning and leaving sickbay without another word, his Chief Engineer’s gaze boring a hole into his back.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Exactly two hours later Archer was back in sickbay to check on Trip, finding the engineer sitting on the side of the bio-bed, dressed in his civvies instead of his uniform, his hair slightly damp. The large bandage had been removed, replaced by a smaller one just on the back of Trip’s neck, where Phlox had made the surgical incision. 

“Well you’re looking a lot better,” Archer greeted him. 

Trip gave a small smile. “Yeah, Phlox had some of my clothes brought here and let me clean up a bit. I feel almost human again.”

 And there, there it was again, that strange look Archer shot Phlox, and Trip’s unease went up another notch. 

Phlox cleared his throat. “Everything came back normal, Captain. Commander Tucker’s neural synapses should be completely repaired in the next few days. I don’t foresee any complications, but I would like him to remain on sick leave for the next three days, with no strenuous activity.” 

Archer nodded. “Absolutely,” he replied, then turned to Trip. “Ready to get out of here?” 

“More than you know,” Trip answered, then slid off the bed. But as soon as he stood upright the world tilted and he staggered. Instantly Archer was there, two strong hands on his upper arms, supporting him.

“Whoa,” Trip breathed. “Thanks, Cap’n.”

Archer turned to Phlox. “Are you sure he’s okay?”

“A little dizziness is to be expected after neuro surgery,” the doctor answered. “Nothing to worry about. He also needs to eat to regain his strength.”

Archer gave Trip’s shoulders a squeeze. “You heard the Doctor. Let’s get you to your quarters and I’ll have Chef whip up something for you. Pan-fried catfish and pecan pie sound good?”

Trip chuckled. “That’ll do, sir.”

Phlox watched as the Captain released Trip’s shoulders, but kept an arm around the Commander’s waist as they slowly made their way out of sickbay.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Trip sighed deeply as he sat down on his bed. “I know this sounds stupid, since all I’ve been doin’ is sleepin’, but I feel like I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Your body’s still healing, Trip. It needs rest,” Archer replied. “And food. Let me run down to the mess hall and talk to Chef.”

As he made to walk past Trip, the younger man reached out and caught his arm, stopping his movement.

“Jon.”

Archer swallowed and closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. He knew what was coming and he was still in no way prepared for it. 

“Jon,” Trip said again. “You want to tell me what the hell is goin’ on? What really happened to me? Phlox sidestepped every question I asked him. I’ve seen crewmen with severe burns treated and released in two days, broken bones the next day. It makes no sense that he would keep me in a coma and not operate for eight days.” He took a breath. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Archer moved away, out of Trip’s reach, his back to the younger man. Steeling himself, he turned to face him once again. “You’re right. There’s something you need to know….”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Fifteen minutes later, Trip found himself nearly frozen with shock, his mind struggling to comprehend all that Archer had told him.

“You…you made a _person_? And then _killed_ him?” Trip could barely get the words out, feeling sick to his stomach. “How…how could you do that?” he demanded, horrified.

Archer strode forward, dropped down to his knees in front of Trip, clasping both of his hands. “Trip…listen to me,” Archer pleaded. “Was it the most agonizing decision I’ve ever made? Yes. Would I do it again? Yes, in a heartbeat.” Trip started to shake his head and pull away, but Archer held tight. “I told everyone that Enterprise needed its Chief Engineer, that we couldn’t complete the mission without you. And that right there was the God’s honest truth, and reason enough to do what I did.” Archer swallowed, his voice softening. “But the other reason is that you mean everything to me. I love you and I couldn’t lose you. I _refused_ to lose you. So I did what I had to do to save your life. And I don’t regret it.”

Trip was silent for a long time and Archer held his breath, unable to read anything in the younger man’s expression. Finally Trip turned and looked away and Archer’s heat sank.

“I can’t talk about this anymore,” Trip said, his voice tight and strained. “I can’t – I can’t even think straight. It’s too much. I need time to myself to try and make sense of this.” 

Archer squeezed Trip’s hands, but the younger man pulled away from his grip. “Trip…”

“Leave me alone, Jon.”

Archer nodded and got to his feet, feeling the first crack appear on his heart. In saving Trip’s life had he inadvertently killed part of which he was trying to save? Had his actions driven Trip away from him? Could Trip find it in his heart to forgive him?

He let his fingers brush Trip’s hair. “I love you,” he whispered, then turned and left the room, silence his only reply.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After a restless night’s sleep, full of tossing and turning, Trip awoke with a desire for information, for answers, for…more. More about the man who was him, but _not_ him. Who gave his life to save Trip’s. It was the only way he was ever going to come to terms with what happened. And see if he could make peace with it.

His first stop was going to be sickbay, to talk with Phlox. What should have been a short journey took nearly twice as long as everyone he met in the corridors wanted to stop and tell him how good it was to see him, that he was up and around again. Hoshi hugged the breath out of him, Malcolm gave him a hearty slap on the back and even T’Pol expressed her pleasure at seeing him. It felt good to know how much the crew cared about him, how worried they were about him. But at the same time he wondered how they had interacted with the _other_ him. 

The sickbay doors slid open at his touch and Dr. Phlox looked up from where he was sitting at one of his computer stations. He nodded at Trip and gestured to a nearby stool. “I’ve been expecting you, Commander. Please, sit.” 

Trip did, looked down at his hands for a moment, then back up at the doctor. “I need to understand,” he said simply. 

Phlox nodded again. “I know this can’t be easy for you. It wasn’t easy for the Captain or for me, to even suggest it.”

“It was that bad? There was nothing else you could do for me?”

“Quite simply, no,” Phlox answered. “There are limits to all of the technology in this room and the damage to your brain was beyond it. Creating the clone in order to harvest its neuro cells to repair your own was the only option.” Phlox paused. “Captain Archer authorized the procedure and the next day I was holding a baby boy in my arms.”

Trip looked away and shook his head. “God…” 

Phlox continued. “I want you to know that I take full responsibility for what happened at the end. It was my error. None of us wanted that. Especially Captain Archer.” 

Trip’s voice was hard. “Is that when it finally hit him? What he’d done? When he had to order Sim to his death?”

Phlox looked stricken. “Commander…”

Trip stood abruptly. “Is he here? I mean, his body?”

“Yes,” Phlox answered. “But I’m not sure it’s wise…” 

“Show me,” Trip demanded. “I need this, Phlox. Please.”

The doctor rose from his chair and made his way to the far end of sickbay, to the small room designated as the morgue, Trip following behind him. He went to one of the drawers in the second row, hesitated a moment, then grasped the handle and pulled. 

Trip couldn’t help the sudden intake of breath at seeing himself lying on a slab in the drawer. It was the most disconcerting thing he had ever experienced and almost too much to process. 

He swallowed hard. “I can’t even believe this. It’s really me.” 

Phlox shook his head. “He had your physical characteristics and your memories, but Sim was his own person. He wasn’t you.” Phlox stepped closer to Trip. “The Captain wanted to wait to have a funeral until you were recovered. In case you wanted to attend. It’s being held tomorrow at 1300 hours in the Armory.”

Trip took his gaze away from the body before him and glanced sharply at Phlox before spinning on his heel and striding out of sickbay without another word.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Head still spinning, Trip made his way as quick as he could back to his own quarters. He threw himself down into the chair at his desk, folded his arms and rested his head on them, trying to quiet his thoughts. Several moments later he sat up and glanced at his computer terminal. There was one more thing he needed to do, as difficult as it was going to be for him to watch. But he needed to see for his own eyes.

With the exception of the crew’s quarters, there were security cameras everywhere on Enterprise. With a few keystrokes Trip was into the security system and pulling up the video footage from nine days ago. He started with sickbay first, since that’s where all of this began. And there, just a few minutes in, was Phlox, Archer and T’Pol, standing over a baby boy.

He watched and listened as Phlox tried to come up with a name for the baby, but most of Trip’s attention was on Archer and how uneasy he seemed around the baby, wanting nothing more than to leave sickbay. Like Phlox had said, the reality of what they’d done was now staring them in the face.

Trip sat back heavily in his chair, unable to look away as events unfolded before him for the next hour, both intrigued and uneasy at watching his clone, as if he were a ghost, looking back on his life. He watched as Hoshi and Phlox taught his young self, (no _Sim_ , Trip reminded himself) how to read, then running through the ship’s corridors playing with Porthos, and then flying a model starship in Cargo Bay 2 with Archer. 

He sat forward then, listening intently to their conversation, experiencing a severe case of déjà vu when Sim told Archer that while his father wanted him to be an engineer his mother wanted him to be an architect. But he wanted to be just like Archer, a starship captain.

All of Sim’s memories _were_ Trip’s then. Because all of that was exactly true. He did want to be a captain, until he realized his talents truly were in the realm of the mechanical and his father was right - engineering was his future. 

Trip’s attention went back to the screen when Sim again asked who he really was and why he was there, that he missed his parents. He could see the emotions that crossed Archer’s face when he realized the time had come to explain everything. 

Trip jumped the security feed back to sickbay, listened as Archer told young Sim that he was a clone, then sucked in a breath as he watched Archer pull back the curtain to reveal his comatose body to Sim. The boy took the news much better than Trip would have expected, until Trip realized that Archer failed to tell Sim that his life expectancy was only 15 days and he felt a surge of anger swell up in him at Archer’s deception. 

For the next 20 minutes or so Trip watched as Sim grew from a young boy to a young man to his adult self, integrating himself into the crew as if he’d been there for years, instead of only seven days. And the crew accepted him with no hesitation. Trip was torn between feeling hurt that he could be so easily replaced and proud that Sim turned out to be the same talented engineer he was.

Which was reinforced a few minutes later when Trip sat on the edge of his seat, watching as Sim came up with a plan using the shuttle pods to get Enterprise moving again, out of the particle cloud, thus saving the ship and its entire crew. “Well done,” Trip murmured, just as Archer spoke the exact same words on the screen.

Trip skipped around the security feeds until a meeting between Phlox and Archer in sickbay caught his attention. It was then that Phlox told Archer that Sim would not survive the neural cell operation, contrary to what he had originally believed, but that it needed to be performed the next day if Trip were to be saved. Trip watched as Archer became visibly upset at the news and for the first time it was apparent that he did care about Sim. That this situation was affecting him much more than he wanted it to.

Trip saw the shift in Sim then, as his clone started to fight for his right to live, and Trip’s chest tightened at the fear he heard in Sim’s voice, his heart breaking at Sim’s pleading to Phlox and Archer. And at the same time he could tell it was tearing Archer up to be so harsh, so cruel in the things he said to Sim, trying desperately to distance himself from the fact that this was a living, breathing person in front of him that he was sending to their death.

It didn’t surprise Trip that Sim thought about fleeing Enterprise in a shuttle pod. Hell, it was exactly what he would have done. And then his heart caught in his throat when Sim said the reason he changed his mind was because of his sister, _their_ sister, Elizabeth, killed along with seven million others on Earth by the Xindi. That he didn’t want what happened to her to happen to anyone else. He knew that Enterprise needed Trip, the real Trip, to complete their mission. And sacrificing his own life was the only way. Trip swallowed hard at Sim’s words, because they were the exact same things he would have said had he been in that situation. Sim was his own person, but at the heart of it all, he and Trip were truly the same.

The final breaking point for Trip was what unfolded in sickbay shortly afterwards. Phlox and Archer were there, waiting for Sim, to begin the surgical procedure that would end Sim’s life. He could see the toll this had taken on everyone by the weariness on Archer’s face, the sadness on Phlox’s and the fear on Sim’s.

Trip’s breath hitched in his chest when Sim thanked Phlox for being a good father then turned to Archer and said that everyone had a purpose in life and he realized that this was what he was meant to do. Then he suddenly turned and strode over to Trip’s unconscious body, saying just three words.

“You owe me.”

Trip jabbed at the keyboard, switching off the monitor before he could watch Sim’s life end. Then he rested his head in his hands and let the tears flow.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Trip dressed carefully the next afternoon, making sure his uniform was spotless, knowing dozens of sets of eyes would be on him at Sim’s funeral in just a few minutes. He felt drained, both physically and emotionally, but he couldn’t let anyone see that. Most of all Archer. He needed to be strong, and stoic. At least for the next 30 minutes.

The armory was nearly full when Trip arrived, crewmen on the floor and up on the stairs and catwalks and it hit him again how much Sim had meant to them. He had saved all of their lives with his skill and knowledge. He had saved Trip’s with the ultimate sacrifice.

It was quiet, just low voices here and there and people moved aside when he walked in, nodding their heads, letting him make his way toward the middle of the bay, to the coffin.

Trip was glad that he had gone to sickbay the day before to see Sim’s body, so that he was prepared to once again see himself. It didn’t stop him from briefly closing his eyes at the sight, though, and he touched the side of the coffin before stepping back.

Archer appeared at the top of the stairs and Trip carefully avoided looking at him. He wasn’t read to talk. Not yet. He needed to get through this first. The Captain gave a touching, stirring eulogy. No one moved, no one spoke, and Trip never took his eyes off of Sim’s body until Malcolm and Travis closed the cover and the coffin slid silently into the torpedo tube. He waited until he heard the faint _hisss_ of the launch, again closed his eyes and then turned sharply and strode out of the armory without a word.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Archer stood at the window in his quarters, wearing only his sleep pants, watching the stars. It was late and he should be in bed but his mind would not let him rest, consumed with thoughts of a blonde, blue-eyed man. It had been two days since they had last spoken in Trip’s quarters. Since he was on sick leave Trip was not required to be on the bridge or engineering and he had ignored the messages Archer had left on his personal comm. He hadn’t even looked his way during the funeral that afternoon.

He was avoiding Archer and that could only mean that Trip couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done to save his life. It didn’t seem possible that after five years their relationship had come to an end. Archer rested his forehead on the bulkhead and closed his eyes, feeling an ache deep inside. Trip may not be able to forgive him, but as he had told the younger man, he didn’t regret his decision. Trip was alive. And that’s what was important. Even if he would no longer be able to hold him in his arms, Trip was _here_. And maybe, one day, there would be another chance for them.

The door chime roused Archer from his musings and he raised his head. 

“Come in”, he called, then blinked at the person standing in the doorway. It was Trip, dressed in a light gray t-shirt and dark gray sweatpants, the circles under his eyes matching his clothes. He looked as exhausted as Archer felt.

“Did I wake you?” Trip asked softly, stepping inside, the door sliding closed behind him.

Archer shook his head. “No, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Trip answered. He blew out a breath and put his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk?”

Archer swallowed, trying to mentally prepare himself for Trip leaving him. “Of course.” He gestured to the bed, walking around to the other side of it, sitting next to Trip, close but not touching.

“Thanks for giving me some space the last couple of days,” Trip began. “I had a lot to think about, to work through. I went and talked to Phlox.”

Archer nodded. “I figured you would. Did you get the answers you were looking for?”

Trip shook his head. “Not all of ‘em. So I went and pulled up the security footage from the last week.”

Archer closed his eyes and hung his head. “Trip…” he breathed, then looked up when Trip touched his hand.

“I had to, Jon. I had to know, to see for my own eyes. Not only to see what _he_ was like, but how _you_ dealt with everything.”

“And?” Archer asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer. It all came down to this.

“You were right when you said it was the most agonizing decision you’d ever had to make. I could see it in your eyes. And I’ll be honest and tell you it was the most agonizing thing I’d ever had to watch.” Trip took a deep breath. “It tore my heart out, Jon. For both Sim and you. I could tell you wanted to distance yourself from him, but it didn’t work, did it, despite your words.”

Archer swallowed past the lump in his throat. “No, it didn’t." 

“I was hoping you were going to say that. I wanted to know that this affected you, because it would have me, as well. Which got me to thinking – what if it _had_ been me in that situation? How far would I go to save the ship, save the crew…save _you_? I was judging you without having put myself in your position. And that was wrong.”

Archer was afraid to breathe, waiting for an answer that would either end what they had or bring them closer together. 

Trip shifted, reaching over and grasping Archer’s hand. “I would have done the same thing,” he said admitted quietly. “As awful as it was, I don’t blame you for what you did. I’m just sorry that I had to force you to make that kind of decision.”

Archer let out the breath he’d been holding and pulled Trip to him, holding on tightly, his face buried in the younger man’s neck. He felt Trip’s arms encircle him, holding on just as tight. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault. The warp reactor would have exploded if you hadn’t acted so quickly.”

Archer lifted his head and pulled back slightly, a hint of humor in his voice. “Could you try and be a bit more careful next time, though?”

Trip laughed, the sound music to Archer’s ears. “Deal,” he smiled, then sobered. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and that’s what’s important.” Archer slowly ran one hand up and down Trip’s back. “I love you,” he whispered.

Trip swallowed. “I know…God, I know,” he breathed before leaning forward and closing the gap between them, his mouth soft but insistent on Archer’s.

It was the spark that ignited the flame. Archer surged up, pulling Trip even tighter against him, one hand now cradling the back of the younger man’s head, the other slipping up under the gray t-shirt.

Trip groaned when he felt Archer’s hand on his bare back and the kiss turned hard and deep, born out of the fear of near-death, pain and loss, reassuring each other that they were here, together.

Trip snaked a hand between them, seeking out Archer’s heat. He groaned as his hand closed around the hard shaft, straining against the flimsy material of the sleep pants. Archer broke the kiss at Trip’s touch, breathing hard, trailing kisses down the side of Trip’s neck, pulling at his shirt. “Off, off…” he panted.

The younger man obliged, divesting himself of his shirt, shoes, socks and pants as Archer reached over to the bedside table and snagged a tube from the drawer. He had no more than turned back and Trip was on him, rolling them both to the center of the bed, slipping Archer’s sleep pants down and off, tossed carelessly to the floor.

Trip straddled Archer, arms on either side of his head, pushing down against him, bare skin to bare skin, their erections sliding against each other.

“Yes….” Trip hissed, head dropping down, hips still moving.

“Wait, here…” Archer said, bringing a slippery hand between them, encircling both of their erections loosely, but keeping them in contact with each other.

The lube made the slip and slide so much easier, more sensual, and Trip groaned deeply, pushing harder, faster, feeling his control start to slip. “Jon…oh God…”

Archer encouraged him, bringing his hips up slightly in counterpoint, squeezing just a bit more on their erections, his other hand sliding to cup Trip’s ass. “Don’t stop. God, I love watching you get off,” Archer panted. “I love all of the expressions that cross your face as the pleasure gets higher and higher.” Trip gasped and Archer grinned. “Like right now…you’re right on the edge aren’t you?” Trip could only nod and rut harder against the man underneath him, breathing harshly, as Archer’s hand moved, his fingers sliding closer to Trip’s entrance. “All you need is something to push you over.” And then the tip of his finger breached Trip and slid inside.

The reaction was instantaneous. It was as if a surge of electricity raced through Trip’s body. He stiffened and cried out sharply as his orgasm overtook him, his erection pulsing in Archer’s grasp, coating both their stomachs in milky fluid.

“Jon…Jon…” Trip breathed, shaken, his arms starting to tremble.

Archer wrapped his arms around the younger man and pulled him down fully against him, then rolled them over so that Archer blanketed Trip’s body. He kissed him then, slow and languidly, bringing the other man down gently until he felt Trip relax underneath him. He broke the kiss with a smile for the blue-eyed man. “I love you like this,” he told him. “All soft and warm and content.”

Trip looked up at him earnestly. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel that way.” He tipped up his head and captured Archer’s mouth with his own, their kiss deep and long. “Make love to me, Jon,” he murmured against the other man’s lips, feeling Archer’s erection lying heavy against his belly.

Archer nodded, smiling gently. “Slow and deep?”

“God, yes,” Trip breathed. “Make it last as long as we can.”

Archer moved away slightly, one arm reaching around behind him, coming back with the lube then coating the fingers of his right hand. He shifted off of Trip’s body then, bending the younger man’s legs at the knees and then moved between them. He let his hand brush over Trip’s softening cock, then lower to gently cup his heavy balls, then lower still. His finger circled Trip’s entrance, teasing until the younger man started to squirm, then gently slipped his finger inside. Tight heat gripped him and Trip sighed deeply, legs falling further open.

Archer started to move then, finger sliding in and out of Trip’s body, faster and deeper, soon joined by a second and finally a third, Trip now pushing down against them, trying to take them further inside.

“Jon…now,” Trip panted. “I need to feel you in me…”

“I’m here,” Archer whispered, sliding his fingers out and pressing the head of his erection at the stretched opening. He pushed slowly and steadily, feeling the moment Trip’s body surrendered to him and he slipped inside.

Trip threw his head back against the pillow as Archer penetrated him. “Don’t stop…keep going…keep going…” he pleaded.

And Archer did, pressing forward with short pumps of his hips, both men groaning as Archer finally filled Trip completely.

“So tight…”

“Oh God, so full…" 

Trip wrapped his legs around Archer’s waist. “Don’t move…just wanna feel you…”

Archer smiled and dipped his head, kissing Trip deeply for long moments until the younger man shifted restlessly. Archer took that as his cue and moved his hips back, sliding nearly completely out of Trip, only the head of his erection remaining inside his body, setting up a long, slow rhythm, in and out.

They moved together like a well-oiled machine, their bodies infinitely familiar with this dance, pushing each other higher and higher, but with no desire to race to the finish line. Just wanting this closeness, this connection with each other to last as long as it could.

But then with a shift of Archer’s hips on the next stroke, Trip sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes closing, and Archer nodded knowingly. “There it is, there’s the spot,” he whispered, feeling Trip’s cock throb against his stomach.

Trip moaned as Archer pulled out then pushed in again, harder, feeling his cock start to swell for the second time. “Not yet…I want to make this last…”

“And I want to see you fall apart, right there with me,” Archer answered, voice strained as he felt his own orgasm start deep inside him.

They clung to one another as Archer took them both to the edge, then pushed them over in a blinding release, bodies shaking with the intensity.

It was several minutes later until they were lying quietly together, warm and sated, tangled together under the sheets, their foreheads touching, kissing softly.

“As awful as the last ten days have been, there was something good that came out of it, because of Sim,” Archer said.

Trip’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“I got to see a part of you I never had. I watched as you grew from a child to a boy to a young man. I got to see your curiosity, your intellect, how you came to be the man you are today.” He cupped the side of Trip’s face. “He made me feel closer to you than I ever have. And for that I will be forever grateful to him.”

Trip swallowed deeply, then gave a wry grin. “I was a handful as a kid, wasn’t I?“

“You still are,” Archer chuckled, then smoothed a thumb over Trip’s cheekbone. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I love you,” Trip whispered against Archer’s forehead, kissing it gently, feeling the older man relax against him as his eyes closed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Sometime later Trip slipped from the bed where Jon was still sleeping, to stand at the window. Sim was out there somewhere and he had a feeling he approved of his final resting place, because that’s exactly where Trip wanted to be, when the end came, out amongst the stars for eternity.

The impact Sim made in his short time on Enterprise was far-reaching. Trip might never be fully comfortable with the concept of cloning, but as he looked at Jon there was no denying that he owed Sim more than just his life.

He turned back to the stars and rested his hand on the glass, his voice just a whisper.

“Thank you.”

**THE END**


End file.
